


Keep Holding On

by FallingLikeThis



Series: Keep Holding On [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Harry cuts his hair, M/M, No Smut, Past Relationship(s), Post-The X Factor Era, Scared Harry, Vulnerable Louis, but his boys have his back, mentions of dunkirk, someone calls Louis a fag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6193060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: When Louis finds out he's not Freddie's father, he turns to the only friend he has left in L.A. The boy whose heart he broke three years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pulling You Back To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LinaEngstrand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinaEngstrand/gifts).



> It's been a while since I've done a WIP. I am going to do my absolute best to post once a week, on Wednesdays, but we all know how well I stick to a schedule. (If you don't know, I suck at it.) I do promise that I won't post a chapter of less than 1k. 
> 
> I hope this was what you were looking for Lina. :)
> 
> Title from Avril Lavigne's song of the same name.

 

Louis hasn’t blinked since they put the piece of paper in his hands. He stares down at it as his arid eyes start to water, disbelieving of what he’s seeing. It was supposed to be a formality, proof of the undeniable fact that the courts should award Louis parental rights over his son. But it turns out that his son is not his son. Freddie isn’t his.

Louis can feel it as each piece of his heart shatters.

He’s not a father. He’s not… He’s not anything.

He crumples the paper in his hands but can’t make himself throw it away. Wants to rip it to shreds and deny that he ever saw it but knows, even in the state he’s in, that wouldn’t be smart.

More than ever Louis needs someone. One of his boys to lean on. He pulls out his phone to call Liam but then remembers that he’s probably back in London already. Niall is god knows where. And Louis hasn’t talked to Zayn since he split from the band. That just leaves…

Louis takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. He  _can’t_ , can he? Harry hasn’t really let him get close in the past three years. At least, not when the cameras aren’t on.  Not that he’s been trying all that hard. There’s just so much unresolved  _shit_  between them and Louis’ been more than happy to ignore it rather than deal with it. God, he can’t possibly go to Harry with this.

Louis looks down at his phone, thumbing over the screen in his indecision. Because the thing is, while he knows he shouldn’t expect Harry to comfort him right now, Harry’s the only one he believes actually could.

With one last sigh, he shoves the crumpled death-cry of his short-lived fatherhood into his pocket and dials a cab. A mere phone call isn’t going to help him anyway.

When the cab arrives, Louis gives the driver Harry’s address and tries to ignore the tremors in his stomach and the sharp, throbbing ache in his chest.

 

~@~

 

“No,” Harry laughs into his phone. “I’m not doing it.”

“Aww, come on, Harold,” Nick cajoles, he figures if he tries hard enough that Harry will eventually cave. “It’s for a really good cause.”

“Nick, I’m not shaving my head on your show,” Harry denies him again. “I know it’s for charity but I already have something lined up for when I cut my hair. And this way, I get to keep some of it.”

“Now, that’s just greedy,” Nick teases. “It’s not like you won’t have two years to grow it back before your fans are screaming about it again.”

“Enough,” Harry chuckles. “You’re not getting my hair. I know you just want it for yourself, anyway.”

“Damn, you caught me.”

Harry is interrupted from replying by someone pressing heavily on his doorbell. His brow furrows. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Nick, let me call you back,” Harry says, distracted as he walks to the foyer. “There’s someone at the door.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Nick taunts but acquiesces. “Alright, talk later, Popstar.”

Harry hangs up just as he reaches the door, peeking out the side window to see who it is before he dares opening it and freezing when he recognizes Louis on the other side. And there’s that echo of hurt that resounds in his chest every time Harry sees him, a wound never fully healed. He takes a deep breath, hand on the doorknob and runs his other hand through his hair nervously before pulling the door opened.

“Louis?”

“Hi, Haz,” Louis offers with a sad, unsure smile. His hunched shoulders make him appear so small. Even smaller than usual, though Harry wisely keeps the thought to himself.

Harry’s heart lurches with the need to reach out, to assure him that he’s welcome. He kind of hates the fact that that will always be true. Louis will always be welcome. No matter how many times he inadvertently breaks Harry’s heart. It’s a battle, but he manages to keep his hands where they are.

“Is something wrong?” Harry asks from where he’s stood, hand on the door, blocking the entrance. His voice and eyes betray his concern but he’s never been very good at masking his feelings.

Louis winces at Harry’s words. The simple fact that something apparently has to be wrong for Louis to seek him out makes Louis burn with a deeper sadness. Though, something  _is_  wrong, so he doesn’t really have room to be offended. “Yeah,” he breathes, eyes prickling with the threat of the tears he hasn’t afforded himself yet. “I— I just really need a friend right now, Harry,” he says, as a tear finally manages to spill over. He wipes it away quickly, throat tight as he tries to keep from letting any more loose but fails, voice wavering when he asks, “is that okay? That I’m here?”

Harry can’t keep his hands to himself anymore, arms opening wide in an offering as he nods, heart bleeding for the boy before him. “Yeah, of course, Lou,” Harry whispers as Louis accepts his embrace, burying himself in Harry’s arms and tucking his face into his neck. “I’m always here for you. Whatever you need.”

Wrapped in the warmth and caring of Harry’s arms, Louis finally lets the dam break loose, sobbing pitifully into his hair and onto the long line of his neck. “I’m not his father, Harry,” Louis sniffs. “Freddie’s not mine.”

Harry’s posture stiffens for the briefest of moments before he’s tugging Louis closer and walking the boy inside his house. He pulls out of their embrace to take hold of Louis’ wrist and pull him upstairs to his bedroom. He knows better that anyone that when Louis is this sad, the place he most wants to be is in a bed, wrapped up in a thick, cozy duvet where he can shut out the rest of the world for a while. He deposits Louis on his bed, bending to tug off his shoes for him before instructing him to crawl beneath the blankets. Louis does as he’s told and Harry follows after him, climbing into the bed from the other side. Once they’re both settled, Harry pulls Louis back into his arms, letting Louis rest his head on his chest as he strokes the older boy’s hair.

Louis nuzzles his nose against Harry’s shirt in thanks. The moment is so reminiscent of the beginning of their friendship, before things became… complicated. Louis’ heart hurts as memories from a much easier time come rushing back to him. Meeting Harry, befriending the boy, feeling that rush of adrenaline at recognizing the hero worship that had sparkled from his eyes. The first stirrings of puppy love. Louis’ tears have mostly dried up by now but he feels a new one slip free as Harry’s fingers card lovingly through his hair. He’s missed this far more than he was ever willing to admit to himself. He closes his eyes in an attempt to stop the waterworks once and for all.

Louis feels a light pressure on his head and it takes him a moment to realize that it was the press of Harry’s lips. Louis snuggles closer, sighing in relief when Harry tightens his hold in response.

“I’ve got you, Lou,” Harry whispers, trying to hide the cracks in his voice. “I’ve always got you. For as long as you need me.”

Louis hopes that Harry means what he says, because now that he’s gotten another dose of the splendor of Harry’s presence in his life again, he doesn’t think it’ll be so easy to give up.

 


	2. You Are Not Alone

Harry wakes up alone. Eyes still closed, he stretches an arm out to feel for Louis in case the boy has simply moved away from him during their nap but finds the sheets cold. He sits up, scrubbing his hands over his face before he shuffles off the bed. His socked feet pad quietly over the floor as he goes down to the kitchen to make himself some tea. He doesn’t expect Louis to still be there; he comes and goes from Harry’s life like he’s got his own personal revolving door in Harry’s heart. It’s a bit of a shock to see Louis sitting on his sofa, face ashen as some entertainment news show reports on his misfortune, telling the world of his heartbreak and wondering where he’ll go to wallow in his failure. His phone on the coffee table catches Harry’s eye as it repeatedly lights up with notifications. It’s on silent and the sheer amount of notifications tells Harry why.

“Someone leaked it,” Louis says, eyes fixated on the television, voice toneless. “Someone sold the paps the test results.” His eyes are lifeless when he turns to look at Harry. “Why would they do that, Haz?”

Harry’s chest feels tight as he moves across the room. It’s a silly question, one that they long ago learned the answer to. It makes Harry so angry that someone’s done it now, used Louis’ pain to further their career or cushion their wallet. Harry takes the remote from Louis’ limp hand and turns off the television, turning back to Louis and kneeling down in front of him. He puts his hands on Louis’ knees and looks him in the eyes. “One day, Louis. One day we’ll get to have things that are _just ours_ , okay?” he promises. “We’ll have things that no one else can touch. That’s why we’re taking a break, right? We just have to give it a little time.”

Louis stares back at him and Harry thinks he might have preferred the emptiness from a moment ago to the anguish that’s directed at him now. Louis slides a hand over to rest on top of Harry’s. “I needed that day to be today. Why couldn’t it have been today, Harry?”

A tear trails down Louis’ cheek when he blinks and Harry is having trouble not joining him. He moves the hand that Louis’ is resting on just enough to entwine their fingers, his throat tight with unshed tears and frustration. “It should’ve. I’m so sorry that it wasn’t, Lou.”

Louis closes his eyes completely as a sob rips from his throat and Harry rises from his crouch to sit next to him, pulling him into his arms.  Louis buries himself in Harry’s arms and Harry holds him tight, letting him get out his grief. He ignores the tears spilling down his own cheeks and comforts Louis with a soothing touch and gentle shushes. He’d like to tell him that everything will be alright but Harry doesn’t want to give the boy false promises. He doesn’t know if everything will be alright. He knows what it’s like to let yourself love another person and lose them, not because they’ve passed away but because life sets them on a different course. Knowing that they’re still out there, somewhere, not loving you back. It’s not an easy thing to deal with, and Harry’s had years of practice. This is all new to Louis.

Louis’ sobs eventually taper off to light sniffles and then just shuddered breaths that fall against Harry’s neck as Louis sleeps again. Harry keeps holding him for a little while, not tired himself but not willing to risk waking the boy when this is the most peace he’s likely to get for a while.

Louis’ phone lights up on the coffee table and Harry sees a picture of the whole Tomlinson clan, several faces trying to smush themselves together so that they can all fit into the picture. It’s Louis’ mother calling and Harry’s heart breaks again because Louis isn’t the only one that’s lost Freddie today. He lets the call go on, staring at the screen until it goes dark, feeling guilty for not doing something.

Jay must be so confused, wondering if what the television is reporting is true or not. Harry wants to get up and call her back, but he doesn’t think it’s his place to. Louis shouldn’t have to, he shouldn’t have to relive the memory of getting those results and losing the first thing outside the band that he’s really cared about in a long time. But maybe he’s supposed to be the one to talk to Jay about it, maybe it’ll help being able to cry with someone who’s feeling the same loss.

Harry sniffles and looks down at Louis’ head where it rests on his shoulder. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he dreams and Harry hopes they’re good dreams, ones that it won’t hurt him to wake up from. Harry shifts, keeping his eyes on Louis the whole time he moves, placing a cushion under Louis’ head as he lays the boy down on the couch so that he can get up.

With one last look over his shoulder, Harry goes back upstairs to get his own phone. He’s not surprised to see that he’s got a few missed calls and texts too. Liam and Niall both probably checking to see if he knows anything. His heart lurches when he sees that Jay’s tried calling him too. It’s been so long since he and Louis have been close that he wasn’t expecting that, there’s no logical reason for Jay to expect Harry to know anything. Wait, maybe there is as they’re the only two members of the band in L.A., maybe that’s why she’s called.

Harry runs his free hand through his hair as he looks through his missed calls. An eyebrow raises of its own volition when he sees that even Zayn has called. Taking a deep breath, Harry texts Niall and Liam to let them know that the news is true and Louis is with him, that he’ll take care of him. There are a lot of things that he won’t be able to do for Louis but this, at least, is something he can. Louis will have to talk to his family but Harry can keep him from having to talk about it any more than he needs to.

He pulls up Liam’s number, knowing his bandmate will be calling him soon anyway now that he knows Harry knows something, and presses send, lifting the phone to his ear as it rings while he walks back downstairs to make himself that forgotten tea.

 


	3. Somebody To Lean On

When Louis wakes, Harry fixes him a cup of warm, honeyed tea. It works to drive away some of the soreness in his throat left over from both from crying and from trying not to.

They don’t talk about it, instead watching whatever Harry had brought up on Netflix while he was sleeping. He knows it’s not an accident that they’re streaming movies instead of watching network television. Harry would have made sure that Louis wouldn’t run across any more stories about this whole mess. Louis sips his tea and keeps his eyes on the tv screen though he knows he’s not actually absorbing anything that he’s seeing.

The only thing that draws Louis out of his haze is the fact that Harry keeps casting worried glances his way that are _this close_ to driving him batty.

“I’m fine,” He lies. He knows Harry knows it’s a lie. He’s knows Harry’s lying too when he says “I know” and turns his eyes back to the television. He knows that, even if Harry didn’t know it was a lie to begin with, he definitely suspects when Louis leans over and cuddles into his side like no time at all has passed since they were sixteen and eighteen and had no idea of the path that awaited them. Harry lifts his arm and welcomes Louis into his space, his warmth and acceptance doing more to comfort than empty words ever could.

A seed of dread, a warning that Louis is treading a dangerous line, tries to dig itself into the pit of his stomach. Louis drowns it in tea and neglect, refusing to let it grow and ruin this moment. The closest thing he’s found to solace.

“Do you want a shower?” Harry asks eventually. “Kind of let the water wash away all the bad feelings? It might make you feel a bit better.”

Louis scoffs a sarcastic laugh into his ear and Harry turns to him with a smirk that’s at least half offended and maybe a little proud for drawing a laugh from him.

“What? What’s so funny about that?”

Louis shakes his head with a tiny smile. “It’s just nice to know that some things never change. You still talk some shit on occasion.”

Harry snorts indignantly, pushing Louis away from him. “Go shower. Prick.”

The smile on Harry’s face as Louis lets himself be pushed up off the sofa gives away that he’s not actually feeling all that insulted. It’s kind of just like old times and Louis feels something real and undefinable settle in his bones. Everything isn’t okay. Far from it. But despite their past, Harry is still on his side, and that goes a long way to getting the world flipped right side up again.

Louis takes Harry’s advice, going upstairs to take a shower. He undresses slowly as the water warms and tries to keep himself together. It seems for every moment that’s just a little bit bright with Harry, the pain creeps back in just a little darker when he’s alone. He tries Harry’s suggestion when he steps under the water, closing his eyes as the water pours over his shoulders and imagining all the feelings of anger and helplessness washing away and slipping down the drain. He remembers what it was like holding Freddie in his arms and tries to hold on to that joy, keep the memories of happiness burning bright even while they war with the knowledge that he can’t have that any more. Honestly, he’s not very good at working through the pain. He has a tendency to hold on to the things that hurt him, letting his anger grow until he lashes out with it but the last thing he wants to do is lash out at Harry. Harry is the absolute last person in the world who deserves any of Louis’ wrath, so he stays in the shower, soaping up and rinsing off. Then, just standing under the spray until he doesn’t feel quite as broken as he did when he got in.

Louis takes a deep breath and turns off the water, reaching for a towel from the rack on the wall and drying himself off before stepping out onto the bath mat. He wraps the towel around his waist and steps up to the mirror, wiping off the steamed up glass with his hand. His reflection is a grim vision. Red-rimmed eyes stare back at him, lips tugged down into a frown. His cheeks are scruffy and he looks a complete mess. Harry’s razor shines up at him from the counter so Louis opens up the medicine cabinet and pulls down some shaving cream. He lathers up his cheeks and sets to work shaving his cheeks until his skin is baby smooth beneath his fingers.

Louis washes off the excess shaving cream and when he looks back at himself, he thinks he looks like a different man. It’s good because he _is_ a different man. The one staring back at him in the mirror isn’t a liar, isn’t a father, isn’t in a band that’s taking a break for an unspecified amount of time. The man that stares back at him has absolutely no responsibilities or expectations pressing down on his shoulders. He’s just Louis. Alone and slightly directionless but he tries to tell himself that’s a good thing. Because a man with no responsibilities has no reason to be heartbroken.

Even as he goes to Harry’s bedroom and steals a t-shirt and some joggers, Louis knows that he’s trying to sell his heart a lie. One that, unfortunately, his heart isn’t buying.

He walks back downstairs, feet shushed against the floor by the socks he’s stolen. Harry’s voice in the kitchen brings him to a standstill and he listens, though he knows he probably shouldn’t.

“Yeah, mum,” Harry says quietly into his mobile. “He’s here.”

Louis swallows at the thought that he’s about to hear a conversation about himself but curiosity keeps him from turning away.

“He’s actually doing really well considering everything he’s going through. He’s doing better than I would be.”

Louis winces at the thought. He doesn’t want to imagine what Harry would look like if he had a child and it was suddenly ripped from his life. Harry’s always wanted children, maybe even more than Louis did. He forces himself not to let his thoughts travel down that road. It’s painful enough as it is.

“I don’t know,” Harry answers some question Louis doesn’t hear. “I don’t even think he got to say goodbye.” He didn’t. “Do you think she would let him?” Probably not. Maybe. God, he hopes so.

Louis squirms where he stands. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop anymore but at the same time, he’s kind of afraid to move.

“Yeah, I think I’ll try. He deserves that at least.” The sounds of Harry pulling out a chair and sitting down give Louis the perfect opportunity to end this, to go sit on the sofa in the other room until Harry is done with his conversation. He doesn’t take it. “Mum, I’m okay. I swear. You don’t need to worry about me right now. Louis needs your sympathy more than I do.”

The swift turn of the conversation catches Louis off guard. He peeks around the corner to see Harry sitting with one hand running through his hair impatiently while the other holds the phone to his ear. “He needs a friend right now and I’m the closest one he’s got. I’m not going to turn him away because of things that happened in the past. No- I know, okay. I know you’re just looking out for me but it’s been three years, mum. I think my heart can take the proximity after three years.”

God, everything about this conversation is painful and Louis is done listening. This isn’t his business. He takes a step in the direction of the living room.

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry says quietly and that one little word has Louis freezing in place. How is it possible for such a small, simple word to carry so many emotions? It’s desperate and hopeful, ashamed and proud, broken and yet, complete. It sounds so much like a confession falling from Harry’s lips that Louis glances around the corner again, wishing with his entire being that he knew what Harry was confessing to.  “But it doesn’t matter. That’s not why I’m doing this.”

Gathering all of his resolve, Louis turns around and finally walks away. Like he should’ve to begin with.

 

 


	4. I Can't Not Love You

Louis turns up the telly when he gets to the living room, letting Harry know of his whereabouts and that he’s not still in the shower (or, say, eavesdropping or anything). He changes the programme and settles in to wait as Harry finishes his phone call. It takes a surprisingly long time.

When Harry finally joins him, walking into the room with cheeks flushed pink from frustration (Louis knows that look and it’s never good), he slumps down next to Louis and closes his eyes for a second, blowing out a heavy breath. It’s a release, pushing out all of the frustration he can manage as he breathes. It’s amazing the things Louis still knows about this boy even though they haven’t technically been close in years.

“Alright?” He asks when Harry’s breathing normally again.

“Yeah,” Harry answers, sparing him a tired smile. “I am now.”

“Come ‘ere,” Louis orders, not waiting for Harry to comply before he’s pulling the boy under his arm and twisting his fingers into the curls he’s never stopped admiring. They’re so pretty now, falling down past Harry’s shoulders and soft against Louis’ fingers. “What’s wrong?”

Harry rests his head on Louis’ shoulder easily, like there’s no tension between them at all. Maybe there’s not at the moment, something bigger pushing all past unpleasantness to the background. Harry’s always been good at putting his own feelings aside when someone needs him. Louis’ the exact opposite usually but he’s the one who needs Harry now, so it’s easy enough to pretend that nothing’s been wrong. Louis would like to pretend it never went wrong in the first place if he could. Somehow, he doesn’t think that will be possible in the long run.

“Nothing,” Harry answers after a quiet minute. His eyes close again as he enjoys the feeling of Louis’ fingernails, scratching lightly at his scalp. “It’s fine.”

“Suit yourself,” Louis shrugs, purposely upsetting Harry’s balance on his shoulder.

“Be still,” Harry pouts as he slaps at Louis’ arm playfully. “I was comfortable.”

“Tough,” Louis says, shrugging again, voice just on the edge of a laugh.

Harry opens his eyes to smile up at him and Louis remembers that smile. It’s the one that Niall had always called Harry’s ‘Louis smile’, one reserved just for him. Even the fans had noticed. Louis loved that smile, still does if the lurch of his heart is anything to go by. He’s _missed_ that smile.

“You look good, by the way,” Harry says reaching up to run his fingers delicately over Louis’ smooth cheek before dropping his hand back into his lap. “All you need now is a haircut.”

Louis snorts. “I’ll get a haircut when you get one,” he replies, tugging on the curl that’s already wrapped around his fingers.

“Ow,” Harry intones, pinching Louis’ side in retaliation.

“You really want to start this, Curly?” Louis wonders, looking down at him with mirth in his eyes. “You know I’ll win.” (He will, too.)

“Don’t be so sure,” Harry blusters with faux confidence. “It’s been years since we had a proper wrestling match. I could have improved.”

“Not the way Niall tells it,” Louis scoffs.

He can feel it when Harry stiffens at his side and realizes his mistake in the same instant. He looks away as Harry blinks up at him, embarrassed that he’s basically just told him that he’s kept tabs on him while they’ve been distant.

“You talk to Niall about me?” Harry asks, earnestly. God, he’s always so earnest and sincere. It’s honestly one of the things about him that terrifies Louis the most. Because Louis doesn’t have the capability to be that honest with _himself_ , let alone other people.

“You know Niall,” Louis lies with a shrug, still refusing to meet Harry’s eyes. “He’s a chatterbox.” Case in point.

When Louis chances a glance back at Harry, his face is closed off and he’s not looking at Louis anymore. He can’t help but feel like he’s disappointed Harry with his evasions.

“Yeah, he’s a real gossip,” Harry says sarcastically, looking down at his fingers. “You just know he’s writing a tell-all book right this second, spilling all of our secrets for the world to read and—”

“Okay. Yes, I talk to Niall about you,” Louis breaks, cutting off Harry’s sarcastic rant. He breaks so easily when it comes to Harry, never able to deal with that heavy feeling of having upset him for long. Well, he used to. Until the one time his fear was stronger than his desire to make Harry happy. “After… everything that happened, I just wanted to know that you were alright. I talked to Zayn about you too, until he left. And I would have talked to Liam but he refuses to get in the middle of whatever’s been going on with us. There, are you happy? I talk to them, I ask about you. Just because you stopped wanting to be around me doesn’t mean you stopped being someone I care about.”

Harry’s back to staring at him again and then he lunges for Louis, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close. “Me, too,” Harry confesses, breath hitting Louis’ neck with every word. “All of it. Everything you said. Just— me, too.”

Louis hugs Harry tight, that feeling that’s been settling in his bones with every right thing Harry’s done since he offered Louis sanctuary in his home is hardening, cementing in his marrow and making Louis feel stronger than he has in years.

“I missed you,” Harry breathes out like it’s a secret for only Louis to hear. “I missed you so much, Lou.”

“Me, too, Haz,” Louis returns. If they’re making confessions, he’s not going to have Harry make them alone. That’s not who they are. For a long time it was together or not at all, and Louis hopes they can get back to that. So, he’s taking the first step right now, wrapped up in the boy he was once too afraid to love but still undeniably does. “I missed you, too.”

 


	5. I'll Be Your Light

Harry pulls back with a shy look and Louis’ first instinct is to be afraid he might regret all these sudden admissions. He trembles a little inside but doesn’t let his fear break the surface, doesn’t let Harry see the slight panic in his eyes when the boy looks at him with his bottom lip between his teeth.

“So, um,” Harry hesitates and that makes Louis’ panic grow just the tiniest bit more. “I don’t want to bring up anything that might make you feel bad again but we’re kind of on a limited timeframe so I can’t actually wait much longer.”

“Okay,” Louis swallows hard. If Harry’s going to make him confront his past decisions, he will. Anything so that they don’t have to go back to the way things have been. It won’t be pleasant, but he’ll do it. For Harry.

“It’s about Freddie,” Harry offers, like he can read Louis’ thoughts and knows they’re headed in the wrong direction.

 _Oh_. He hadn’t expected that. Louis thought they were avoiding that. With good reason it seems because there goes his chest, tearing open again.

“Oh.”

“Look, I know it’s painful,” Harry says, lifting a hand to squeeze Louis bicep. “But if you want to see him, to say goodbye or— or whatever, I got Briana to agree to it.”

Now it’s Louis’ turn to be stunned. “You talked to her?”

It was never a surprise to anyone that Harry had never warmed to Briana. He and Louis still hadn’t been close when everything had gone down so there was really no reason to, but from the way the other boy had talked it was more than just jealousy. Harry had never been that petty anyway, he’d never speak out against someone else’s happiness simply because it conflicted with his own. No, it was because Harry is far better judge of character than Louis is. It was like he could see the gambit Briana was going to put Louis through and he struggled to keep it to himself so sometimes it spilled out to the other boys. Louis’ heart warms at the knowledge that Harry has apparently called up this person that he genuinely doesn’t like (which is rare) for  _him_.

“You deserve a chance to say goodbye to the son she let you think was yours. You still love him. You should get the opportunity to tell him, one last time, if that’s what you want,” Harry tells him so intently, green eyes filled with such determination that Louis should have this.

“I do. I want it,” Louis admits, finding his arms encircling Harry again. He’s had Harry in his arms so many times today that he’s afraid he’s getting addicted. Was it like this before? Were they just a constant mass of tangled limbs when the band started out and they were both harboring forbidden crushes? It does seem like his memories of that time are a blur of Harry’s arms and curls and smiles directed solely at Louis. Always for him. Harry would have done anything for him and Louis knew it. He still knows it because, apparently, Harry will still do things that take him out of his comfort zone if it carries even a hint of a chance that it will make Louis happy. He’d taken that for granted before but he’s not going to now. “Thank you, Harry. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Yes, I do,” Harry states. Louis pulls back to look into Harry's eyes and finds that he believes him. Harry does know. Somehow, he  _always_  knows.

“Will you come with me?” Louis asks, reaching for Harry’s hand and tangling their fingers together hopefully.

“Of course,” Harry answers with a squeeze of his fingers. “Whatever you need from me, Lou.”

Louis hesitates, but can’t seem to stop himself from leaning forward and pressing his lips to Harry’s cheek. The boy deserves so much more but this is all Louis has the courage to offer just now, unsure of exactly where they stand.

Harry’s eyes are a little bit wider when Louis looks at him again, mouth opened on an exhale but the shock that passes over his face is gone a second later and Louis could almost convince himself that he never saw it if he let himself. He doesn’t want to. He wants to hold on to that look of something akin to awe on Harry’s face, especially when he catches Harry raise a hand to hold against his cheek when he thinks Louis isn’t looking, like he’s trying to capture Louis’ kiss and keep it there.

Louis doesn’t bother changing out of Harry’s sweats before they leave Harry’s house.  And he tries not to think about where they’re going or that it’s the last time he’ll ever go there. He holds Harry’s hand as Harry drives them, grip tightening as they get closer. Harry doesn’t complain, letting Louis squeeze the blood flow from his fingers in silence, only stealing glances every now and again to make sure that he’s alright.

When they pull up outside the house, Louis finds himself frozen in his seat. He doesn’t want to have to say goodbye. It was only a very short time but it feels wrong to be walking away from the baby boy that still feels like his. Louis swore to himself that he would be a good father and even though he knows logically that the child isn’t biologically his, this still feels like he’s breaking that promise.

“Come on, Louis,” Harry says softly, tugging gently on Louis’ hand. “We’d better hurry. I don’t want to give her a chance to change her mind.”

Louis nods, reaching for the door handle. He gets out of the car slowly and stands there, staring at the house he’s visiting for the very last time. He takes a deep breath and takes a step forward. After the first step, it gets a little easier to keep going, easier to breathe. Maybe it’s Harry joining Louis at his side, the tangle of their fingers as Harry takes his hand again. By the time they reach the front door, Louis feels ready for this. Ready to say goodbye.

He reaches out and presses the doorbell.

 


	6. Safe, In My Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Louis sings to Freddie is "In My Arms" by Plumb.

Harry shifts uncomfortably on the sofa. Across from him, Briana sits in an armchair, legs crossed primly as she ignores him in favor of her phone. His hands are folded together on his lap as he sits in silence, waiting while Louis gives Briana’s child one last goodbye.

Freddie had been fussy when they’d arrived and Briana had seemed almost relieved to see them, like she was at her wit’s end with what to do about the crying child.

Louis had readily accepted the baby, making quiet shushing sounds that had quickly worked to soothe the child to a quiet whine rather than the roar of tears they’d been greeted with. Even now, Harry can hear Louis’ voice, the murmured hum of a distant song finding its way down the stairs.

“What are you going to do when Louis isn’t here to help take care of him?” Harry asks, quietly. He’d seen the panic in her eyes when she’d opened the door. She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into.

“There are things called nannies, you know,” she says without looking up from her phone.

“A nanny isn’t a replacement for a parent,” Harry replies, staring at her, silently urging her to look up from her damn phone.

“Look, I don’t need a lecture from you,” she frowns, finally training her disapproving gaze on him. It’s probably fair to say that she doesn’t like him, possibly even with good reason. Many of their fans refused to believe that Louis would have ever been with her because they believed that he was with Harry. Harry only wishes they were right. “I hear enough from my parents and the lawyers. Your  _fans_ have been pretty vocal, too. So you’ll have to excuse me if I’m not inclined to take parenting advice from someone who’s not even a  _parent_.”

Harry sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t trying to lecture you, I was…,” he takes a deep breath, trying to figure out the right wording to avoid further insult. “If you need it, I think Louis would still like to help with Freddie. He doesn’t have to be his biological father to still care for him.”

Briana stays quiet, just staring at Harry for a moment before turning back to her phone like he hadn’t said anything at all. Harry supposes it’s slightly better than an outright ‘no’.

Maybe he doesn’t have any right speaking for Louis, but Harry feels in his heart that everything he said was true. Given half a chance, Louis would still treat the child like his own.

 

*

 

“ _Clouds will rage and storms will race in, but you will be safe in my arms. Rains will pour down, waves will crash all around. But you will be safe, in my arms_ ,” Louis sings to the babe that’s swiftly falling asleep in his arms, quiet voice still echoing off the barren walls of Freddie’s room.

This room is nothing like the room at Louis’ house. Freddie’s room there is full of color and baby toys, stuffed animals and books that Louis grew up with mixed with noisemakers that would keep any baby entertained for hours at a time. There’s so much  _stuff_  and the thought of going back to that without Freddie makes him feel sick to his stomach.

Louis does his best to ignore the thoughts of going home to an empty house and keeps singing. “ _Castles, they might crumble, dreams may not come true. But you are never all alone because I will always, always love you_.”

Freddie is sleeping sweetly in his arms when Louis finishes the song and Louis gazes down at him, eyes brimming with tears and chest near to bursting with love. He presses a tender kiss on the baby’s head and moves to the crib to put him down. But when he gets there, he can’t quite do it. He’s said his goodbye, but now he can’t quite make himself officially let go.

There’s the murmur of speech through the walls as he hears Harry and Briana conversing downstairs. He can’t tell what they’re saying but he uses their conversation as an excuse to stay just a little longer.

 

*

 

“This isn’t what we discussed,” Briana informs Harry, looking up from the bank app on her phone.

“I know,” Harry agrees. “Even if he’s not Louis’ son, he’ll still want what’s best for him.”

“So, did Louis transfer this money? Or did you? Because I was under the impression that we weren’t telling Louis about it,” Briana asks, eyes narrowed.

“I’m not going to keep this from him. I just haven’t told him  _yet_.”

Briana sighs, deep and agitated. “Whatever. I won’t be seeing him anymore so I guess it doesn’t matter if he hates me now.”

Those words make Harry flinch. If she doesn’t expect to see Louis again, that means she doesn’t plan on letting him see Freddie again.

“He’s not going to hate you,” Harry argues, though he’s almost certain that it’s all in vain. “He’s going to be royally pissed off at  _me_  but he won’t hate you.”

Briana simply shrugs off Harry’s words like it genuinely doesn’t matter now that she’s gotten the hundred thousand dollars Harry wired into her account. And she really can’t be upset about the trust he’s starting for her son though it’s probably got to sting knowing that all that money will be sitting there and she won’t even be able to touch it. Louis would want the child to have it and that’s reason enough for Harry.

“Please,” Harry pleads, though he really hates giving this girl any kind of power. “Don’t just push Louis out of Freddie’s life.”

“You asked for one last goodbye. I gave it to him,” Briana answers without a single care. “I’ve done my part.”

Harry sinks into the sofa in defeat. There’s no reasoning with this girl.

Luckily, it’s only a few minutes later that Louis wanders back down the stairs. “I’m ready,” he tells Harry with a sad smile.

Harry stands from the sofa and walks Louis to the door, Briana following behind.

“Don’t forget what I said,” Harry tells her before she can push him out. She doesn’t react in the slightest.

Just before Louis follows him out the door, he turns suddenly and wraps the girl in a hug. “Thank you, for letting me see him.”

Harry had thought the girl heartless just moments ago but the look left on her face when Louis turns to go speaks of both longing and regret and Harry thinks that just maybe, there might still be hope for all of them.

 


	7. Unraveling

They sit in the car in silence, staring back at the house that Louis can’t quite leave behind just yet.

“Lou,” Harry says gently, placing his hand on Louis’ knee. The longer they sit here, the harder he thinks it will be for Louis to leave. As difficult as it will be for Louis to watch the house fade from the rear view, it’s still something that has to happen and Harry hates the thought of drawing out the pain that he knows Louis must be feeling any longer than necessary. “We should go.”

“How much did you give her?” He asks, gaze never even shifting from the front door of the house.

“I—,” Harry looks away, ashamed that Louis found out before he could tell him. Did he hear them talking? Or does he just assume that’s what it would take for Briana to let him in one last time? Harry hopes it isn’t the latter, even if it may be true. He hopes Louis knows he’s worth more than that.  He swallows and then clears his throat, turning back to Louis to make his admission to his face. He owes him that. “A hundred thousand. And I’m having my lawyer set up a trust for Freddie. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars he’ll get when he turns twenty-one.”

Louis nods wordlessly, accepting Harry’s confession as though it’s nothing more than he’d expected. His stare falls from the door to his hands where he’s got his fingers clinched tight together in his lap. “That should have been me setting that up for him. I mean, I would’ve. Even if…” he falls silent and Harry can hear his breathing getting harsher, breaths becoming ragged. “I just- I thought we had  _time_.”

When Louis’ voice breaks on the last word, Harry leans over the center console to reach for Louis. He barely even notices the pain pressed into his side as he holds Louis tight.

“I thought we had time,” he repeats in a whisper as he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and it breaks Harry’s heart to hear the anguish in Louis’ voice.

Harry says nothing. Because what can you possibly say to that? He can’t promise that there will be more time. He can’t tell Louis that he’s still got time to build a family because this isn’t like having a pet goldfish that you find pleasant but ultimately aren’t all that attached to. Freddie isn’t something that can be replaced. So, in lieu of comforting words, Harry just holds him, caging him in the protection of his arms hoping that, for now, it’ll be enough.

“I can’t go home, Harry,” Louis whispers into his hair, managing to hold his tears back but just barely. “I can’t go back there knowing there’s a room full of his things that he’s never going to use again.”

“You don’t have to,” Harry promises, pressing a kiss to Louis’ temple. “You can stay with me as long as you like, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis agrees, sniffling as he squeezes Harry in gratitude.

They just sit there, holding each other, for another ten minutes or so before Louis pulls back. He gives Harry another of those melancholy smiles he’s been wearing all day when he could manage one as he sits back in his seat and straps himself in. Harry is saddened by those smiles, he misses the sunshine that Louis emits when he’s truly happy.

“You ready to go?” Harry asks softly, reaching for the keys as he speaks.

“Yeah,” Louis lies.

Harry knows – he always knows – but he turns the keys anyway, starting up the car and pulling back onto the street.

They spend the drive back to Harry’s house in relative quiet, the radio playing softly to distract them from their less than happy thoughts.

Once they’re back at Harry’s house, door closed and locked behind them to keep out the rest of the world for just a bit, Louis finally feels like he can breathe a little easier. He’s said his goodbyes, what’s done is done. Now, he just has to figure out some way of moving on. He doesn’t think it’s going to be as easy as it sounds.

Harry takes his boots off by the front door and Louis follows suit, leaving his shoes piled on top of each other carelessly rather than in a neat row like Harry’s. Harry snorts at the image and shakes his head with a fond smile. At least some things haven’t changed.

He takes a step to move further into the house but Louis catches his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He turns to look at the smaller boy and finds Louis staring back.

“Thank you, Harry,” he says, heart in his throat. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Louis,” Harry answers sincerely. “But you don’t have to thank me. I haven’t done anything I didn’t want to do. Or anything that I wouldn’t do again in a heartbeat.”

“I know,” Louis admits, pulling Harry’s wrist until he’s forced to take a step closer or break their connection.

He chooses to close the distance.

“I’m so sorry for everything that happened between us before,” Louis continues, looking up into Harry’s eyes. “I never should’ve-”

“It’s fine, Louis,” Harry interrupts. He’s long forgiven Louis for not choosing him. Putting distance between them was Harry’s only hope of mending his broken heart, it was never about hurting Louis or being angry with him. “You don’t have to apologize for that. We’re past it now.”

“Are we?” Louis questions, blinking at Harry with a mixture of hope and despair in his eyes and Harry isn’t sure how to answer him because he’s not sure what, exactly, Louis is asking. Louis seems to see the questions in Harry's eyes and opens his mouth to clarify. “Harry, do you still…”

The question hangs in the air, unfinished. But Harry knows the words that Louis isn’t saying. His heart starts beating unreasonably fast and he gently tugs his wrist away, hating himself just a little when Louis’ face falls. “I need to- It’s been a long day. We should probably get to bed.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re probably right,” Louis agrees, refusing to look at him now.

“You know where the guest room is.”

Louis nods, eyes on his toes. He knew he shouldn’t have brought up their past. Even if he’s seen the error of his ways and he’s no longer afraid of what it would mean to be with Harry, completely and openly, he’s given Harry no reason to trust his feelings. How can he expect Harry to offer up his heart again when Louis so thoroughly abused it the first time? He slowly follows Harry up the stairs, preparing to go into the guest room across the hall from Harry’s.

“Louis?” Harry calls and Louis turns to see him standing in the doorway to his bedroom looking back at him. He opens his mouth once or twice like he’s trying to say something but isn’t sure if he should. “I do,” he says, finally managing to force the words out. “I do ‘still’.”

Louis’ stomach erupts with all the butterflies that he thought had fled three years ago in the wake of his fear. He smiles at Harry, a small, shy thing that only bears the smallest similarity to the smiles that Harry used to love seeing on his face.

“I know I never really said it back then,” Louis offers, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, “But  _me, too_.”

Harry smiles, a mirror of the shy grin Louis just gave him a second ago, and his eyes have a shine to them that Louis thinks may be tears. Or possibly stars. There were always stars in Harry’s eyes when they were younger. “Good night, Lou,” Harry says, still smiling so Louis thinks that they’re probably going to be okay.

“Good night, Harry,” Louis repeats in answer.

They both duck into their rooms to get ready and crawl into bed. Louis doesn’t think he’ll sleep tonight. It  _has_  been a long day filled with a whole spectrum of conflicting emotions. He should be tired, he kind of is a little, but he spends the next hour memorizing that lovely smile on Harry’s lips when he’d admitted to sharing his feelings. He never wants to forget that smile.

A little while later, Louis’ door creaks open and Harry peeks in, stepping inside when he sees that Louis is still awake. No words pass between them. They have no use for them when all Louis needs to do is pull back the covers in invitation.  Harry crosses the room to climb in bed beside him where they end up in a tangle of limbs and lingering looks.

Louis is still awake when Harry falls asleep with his head on Louis’ chest, arm draped over his torso, but soon Louis feels himself sinking deeper into unconsciousness. When all is said and done, Louis finally closes his eyes on what has simultaneously been the best and worst day of his life.

 


	8. I Won't Let You Go It Alone

Harry fully expected to wake up well before Louis. He thought he’d wake up to find Louis still passed out beside him and he’d press a kiss to his messy hair and sneak downstairs to make them breakfast. He’d imagined Louis waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs and maybe having a slightly better day than the one before simply because he knew Harry was there for him, will always _be_ there for him.

But that’s not what happens.

Harry wakes up to find Louis’ side of the bed empty. There’s not even a trace of warmth so Harry knows he’s been gone for a while and Harry’s heart lurches at the thought that Louis’ left him again, that last night when they’d declared their feelings for each other was just a beautiful lie that Louis regrets now that the sun has risen.

Harry takes a deep breath and tells himself to calm down. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe Louis just couldn’t sleep. Maybe he’s downstairs cooking _Harry_ breakfast, in which case… Harry jumps up from the bed and rushes to the bedroom door, swinging it open in a hurry to save his house from impending doom, but stops just a step past the doorway when he hears Louis’ voice.

The door to Harry’s room is cracked and he can hear Louis talking to someone on the phone, voice breaking even though Harry can tell he’s trying to be strong.

“Do you want me to come-  No, it’s fine. I _want_ to see everyone. I miss you guys,” Harry hears, Louis’ voice going tight with the words.

Harry doesn’t listen to anymore. This isn’t his business. If Louis wants to tell him about it when he gets off the phone, Harry will be more than happy to listen but he’s not going to listen in on something so perssonal. Instead, he goes downstairs. It looks like he gets to make Louis breakfast after all. Whether it will help brighten Louis’ day, Harry isn’t so sure anymore.

He’s just finishing up, putting the toast on a plate when Louis walks in. His eyes are red-rimmed and he looks perfectly miserable.

“Thanks, Haz,” he says when Harry hands him a plate, rewarding him with an approximation of a smile as he sits on a stool at the island in the center of the kitchen to eat.

Harry pours them some juice and sits next to Louis, maybe a little closer than absolutely necessary just to remind Louis that he’s there to lean on if need be.

Louis takes the cue, ignoring his food as he rests his head on Harry’s left shoulder.

“That was the hardest conversation I’ve ever had,” Louis says softly.

“Your mum, right?” Harry asks though he already knows the answer, raising his right hand to run his fingers comfortingly through Louis’ hair.

“Yeah,” Louis confirms. “She was heartbroken and the girls don’t know what to do with themselves. It’s crazy over there, right now.”

“I imagine so,” Harry says, the ministrations of his fingers making Louis visibly relax against him.

It’s quiet for a few moments as Louis raises his head from Harry’s shoulder, making Harry take his hand back, so that they can both eat before the food goes cold.

“Harry,” Louis prompts, firmly putting his fork down on his plate as he turns to Harry brimming with determination that Harry isn’t sure why he needs.

“What is it, Louis?” He asks, lifting another forkful of eggs to his mouth.

He already doesn’t like the way Louis’ eyes seem to be pleading with him to understand. “I think I need to go home for a few days.”

 _Oh_. He _is_ leaving. That’s what he wants Harry to understand.

“To Doncaster?” He checks, just to make sure he comprehends what’s going on.

Louis nods slowly. “I need to spend some time with my family. So that we can deal with this together.”

Harry picks up the way Louis’ voice has the slightest tremor. Almost as though he’s afraid to do what he’s telling Harry he _needs_ to do. Like, maybe, he’s afraid to be confronted with all that pain. Afraid of their pain and his own compounding to bring his grief crashing down on him, heavier than before. Harry understands that fear.

“Do you- I mean, I could go with you,” Harry suggests, not looking up from his plate as he scrapes his fork across the surface to pick up the last of the eggs, “if you want.”  

Harry can’t keep his eyes to himself anymore when Louis goes absolutely silent beside him. He looks over and Louis is just staring at him, mouth slightly open. He looks somewhere between wounded and adoring before he blurts out a “how are you _real?_ ” and lunges to wrap himself around Harry.

“I don’t know how,” he says, as Harry relishes the embrace, “but you always know exactly what I need.”

Harry imagines it has something to do with being hopelessly in love with him but he isn’t going to say that. Louis is dealing with enough as it is. He doesn’t need any kind of pressure from Harry dropped on top of it right now.  “When do you want to go?” He asks instead.

“As soon as possible,” Louis answers.

It’s nothing less than Harry expected and he pulls out of Louis’ arms so that they can set everything into motion. It would be too easy to just stay in his embrace for as long as possible but there are things to do, now.

“Finish your breakfast,” Harry says decisively, standing to put his dishes in the sink. “I’ll book the tickets and start packing. Then, we’ll go to your house and pick up what you need.”

Louis is still smiling at Harry’s back as the boy goes bounding upstairs.

Harry finishes packing in record time and they head over to Louis’ house. Louis can’t seem to get out of the car once they get there and Harry isn’t about to make him, so he goes in and packs Louis’ things for him. He’ll end up stealing half of Harry’s clothes anyway so he’s not very picky except when he’s picking out Louis’ trousers. Even when they weren’t talking, Harry’s clothes still magically ended up in Louis’ bags more often than not. Maybe, he thinks as he lugs Louis’ luggage to the car, Louis was trying to tell him something. He doesn’t delve too deeply into that thought, knowing it will drive him crazy if he lets it.

An hour later, both boys are seated comfortably on a flight back to England. Louis fidgets in his seat for a bit until Harry reaches out to take his hand, tangling their fingers together loosely.

Louis settles down pretty quickly. And if they both know it’s Harry’s influence, neither of them says anything.


	9. We're Becoming Something Else

Louis’ mum greets him with a tight hug and tears in her eyes.

“Missed you, Bun,” she says into his ear as she hugs him tight.

Louis holds her just as firmly, grateful for the comfort of his mother’s arms even if he knows this trip is going to be hard. “I missed you, too.”

She looks surprised to see Harry when the boy walks up with both of their bags but her face breaks out into a smile of genuine happiness at the sight of him. “Harry, love,” she murmurs, reaching for him next.

He puts their bags down to return her hug. “Hello, Jay,” Harry greets her warmly. He’s always loved Louis’ family. “I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along.”

“Nonsense. We’re happy to have you,” she says, pulling back from the embrace to get a good look at him. “Look at you. You’re even more handsome than I remember.”

“Thank you,” Harry accepts the compliment with a small grin, reaching down to pick up their bags even as he keeps his eyes on Louis’ mum, “and you look as lovely as ever.”

Jay chuckles ruefully, between the crying and the rush to get the house ready for Louis’ arrival, she can’t quite believe Harry’s words. “There’s no need to lie, love,” she jokes, swatting Harry as he passes to take their things into the house.

“I’d never!” Harry responds in mock offense, stopping in his steps like he intends to compliment Jay until she believes him.

Louis rolls his eyes at the show, pushing Harry further into the house. “That’s enough flirting with me mum, Harold.”

Harry doesn’t reply to Louis’ accusation, but he does throw an over-the-top wink over his shoulder at Jay where he knows Louis will see.

Jay laughs, shaking her head at the both of them as Louis smacks him on the arm and pulls him to his old room to deposit their bags. It’s been a long time since she’s seen these two behaving like this with each other. It’s a nice surprise. She was worried they’d never get past their issues.

Louis’ sisters become aware of his presence when he’s halfway to his room, piling on him with hugs and words of encouragement – whispered so as not to cause more harm than help.

Harry doesn’t get away unscathed either, though he’s able to get rid of their bags before he’s bombarded as well. He’d forgotten what this felt like, being wrapped up in a house as full of love as this one is. Apparently, Louis had too because Harry can see his eyes starting to glisten from where Lottie and Fizzy are still holding onto him next to where Daisy and Phoebe have captured Harry in their arms.

Louis holds both of his eldest sisters for a long time, even after Harry directs the twins to lead him to Ernie and Doris so that he can give the littlest members of Louis’ family a proper hello. Louis gives him a grateful smile as the twins pull him away.

“I’m so sorry, Lou,” Fizzy sniffs on his shoulder while Lottie hugs him from behind. “I hate this.”

“Me, too, Fizz,” Louis answers, squeezing her a little tighter and raising a hand to rest on the arm Lottie has around his neck. “Least I’ve still got you lot, right?”

“And Harry,” Lottie adds, and there’s something knowing in her tone, like it was a forgone conclusion that they’d end up wrapped up in each other again. Louis had hoped. He’s sad that it had to take something like this to make it happen but he’s so grateful that it has.

“And Harry,” he agrees without elaborating. Maybe it was naïve for him to ever think that the whole world couldn’t see what Harry had always meant to him. His sister certainly did.

When the family is done welcoming Louis (and Harry) home, Harry helps Jay with dinner while Louis occupies Doris and Ernie. Harry had offered to switch, afraid that Louis playing with his toddler siblings would be a painful reminder for him, but Louis had declined much to the relief of everyone else.

Louis can understand Harry’s worries but these are his siblings. He won’t let what’s happened with Freddie affect how he sees them, or the way he loves them, except to be even more thankful for each moment he has with them.

Dan gets home just before dinner is ready. He hugs Louis in welcome, pleased to see his stepson home again as it happens so infrequently. He gives Harry a hug with a pat to his back and says something in his ear low enough that Louis can’t hear it. Harry nods to the older man, giving him a smile and glances at Louis when he answers in the same low tones. Maybe it should bother him more, but Louis doesn’t think they’re saying anything bad so he looks away and pretends he didn’t see anything.

When they sit down to eat, Harry is to the left of Louis with Phoebe on his other side. Daisy and Phoebe had fought over who got to sit next to Harry. Louis could have been a nice big brother and given up his seat but he’s missed Harry too – probably more than any of them realize - so he doesn’t, stating that maybe if they’d shown a little more love to their actual _brother_ that he might have felt more generous. Harry had thumped him for that with a “jealous, Louis?” and a cute little smirk. “Not in the least, Styles,” Louis had replied, and it had been true only because he hadn’t given up that damned seat. Louis isn’t jealous that his sisters love Harry because he understands that feeling, but he would have been jealous of both of his sisters had he lost his place next to the other boy. He’s spent far too long away from Harry to give him up now. Even for the briefest of moments.

After a lovely dinner, Louis joins his family watching some programme that he doesn’t really see. Harry is tucked into his side again, all four of the twins lounging all over the two of them. Harry holds a sleepy Ernest in his arms, while Doris watches Daisy braiding Harry’s curls like she’s mesmerized by it. Every now and then, she reaches out and tugs a curl that Daisy isn’t working with, causing Harry to hiss at the sudden pain before Louis untangles her hand from his hair. Phoebe lays her head in Louis’ lap, her legs dangling over the arm of the sofa while she watches the telly.  Fizz and Lottie are both buried in their phones but they’re sitting on the floor in front of the sofa with their backs resting against Harry and Louis’ legs, and Louis’ parents keep casting glances their way, unable to keep the smiles off their faces.

It occurs to Louis sometime between the first programme and when he and Harry tuck the youngest of his siblings into bed that he’s never felt quite so loved and cared for as he does in this house at this moment.


	10. I Will Be Your Remedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, rehpcmm092! I did something I hope you like as a birthday gift. Sorry, it's a little late. *ducks head in shame*

After all the youngsters have gone to bed, it’s only a matter of time before Dan turns in as well, stating he’s got an early morning tomorrow. Harry follows suit, knowing that Louis and his mum have a lot to talk about. He burrows into the covers on Louis’ bed, bone tired but not sleepy exactly, and listens to the low hum of voices carrying from the kitchen. He can’t make out any of the words but he’s not trying to. Eventually he’s able to pick out Louis’ voice from Jay’s. It wasn’t a conscious decision to listen for it, but when has Harry ever had a choice when it came to Louis? Not that he’d change a single thing.

Louis returns to his room after a long, arduous conversation with his mother. They’d hugged, they’d cried, they had leaned pretty heavily on each other. Louis feels fairly exhausted if he’s honest, tired of the sadness that clouds his vision and the little fingers of fear that try to grip onto him any time he’s forced to think about the future. His future doesn’t have Freddie in it and he doesn’t want to look too far ahead to see what that means for himself. Losing him has been damaging enough already and it’s only been a couple of days.

Cracking the door open, he smiles at the sight of Harry laid out peacefully on his bed. Most of his curls are spread out on the pillow behind him, all but a few tangled strands that fall over his face, his lips parted as he breathes out long puffs of air into the pillowcase. He still looks so innocent like that, it takes Louis back to their X-factor days when they’d spent more time sleeping in each other’s arms than not. Harry had never been entirely innocent and that had been one of Louis’ favorite things about him, how he looked so deceptively sweet and pure but behind closed doors, Louis and Louis alone got to see the parts of him that no one else knew existed. He’d opened himself up to Louis from the very beginning and Louis had never fully returned the favor. Maybe it’s time he make up for that, he decides as he crawls into bed next to the boy that, deep down, has never _not_ meant something more than a friend to him.

“Hey,” Harry says groggily, waking a little when Louis shakes the bed crawling into it. “Everything go alright?”

Louis settles down facing the sleepy boy, smiling slightly at the way Harry can barely keep his eyes open but still tries as he waits for Louis’ answer. “Yeah. It’s good,” he answers quietly, brushing a few curls off Harry’s cheek. “Sorry, I woke you. Go back to sleep.”

“Come ‘ere,” Harry says, wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist in an attempt to pull him closer.

Louis laughs at little as Harry clumsily tugs at him, nearly forcing him to roll onto his belly. “If you want to cuddle, Curly, perhaps it would be best if I’m the little spoon.”

“Nope,” Harry denies, eyes closed again, as he throws his leg over Louis’ hip so that he can’t try to turn away from him, even if it would make their sleep arrangements easier. “I like you where you are right now.”

Louis doesn’t fight it, sinking comfortably into place next to Harry, their faces mere inches apart so that Harry’s breaths hit Louis in the face. He smells like mint and cologne and _home_ and Louis has no idea how he’s lived without this for the past few years. He wonders at the weight of Harry’s limbs holding him in place and the bone deep ache he fought not to notice that slowly ebbs away now that he’s back where he belongs. “So do I,” he whispers knowing that he’s talking about more than the position they’re lying in but keeping quiet in case Harry’s fallen asleep again.

Harry’s not asleep though, his eyelids fluttering open at Louis’ words. He watches Louis with undisguised uncertainty, eyes roaming his face like he’s searching out the true meaning in Louis’ declaration.

 Louis doesn’t want Harry to be unsure of him anymore, he wants the boy to know that every uttered word is a promise that Louis very much intends to keep. He lifts his left hand to trace his fingers over Harry’s cheek, his jaw, thumb plucking at Harry’s lower lip before he’s closing the distance between them, pressing his mouth to Harry’s.

It’s gentle, _so_ gentle, but Harry still lets out a pained little whimper before his hands are pulling Louis impossibly closer. It has hurt so much having Louis in his sight all this time but still just out of reach. Harry has no doubt that _this_ , whatever’s happening between them, has the capability to hurt a million times worse, but he can’t seem to care about that when Louis’ mouth is opening to allow Harry inside for the first time in ages. He can’t bring himself to think about anything but the feel of Louis’ tongue grazing his so sweetly, Louis’ hands fisting in his hair, Louis’ legs tangling with his as they get lost in each other. Just _Louis_.

Everything comes to a sudden stop when Harry’s thumb caresses Louis’ cheek while they’re kissing and comes away wet. Harry pulls back to find Louis blinking at him with tears on his cheeks and immediately feels guilty.

“Oh my god, Lou,” He murmurs, so genuinely remorseful as he wipes away Louis’ tears. “I’m so sorry. You’re vulnerable right now, I shouldn’t have–”

Louis cuts him off with the firm press of his lips, kissing away Harry’s apology because there’s absolutely no need for it. “Stop.” His voice is husky with emotion but eyes burning bright with the life that Harry put there. “I kissed you first, remember? And there’s nothing to be sorry about, Haz, I promise you.”

“You’re crying, Lou,” Harry whispers in return like that’s something that Louis might have missed, fingers still stroking Louis’ cheeks softly while his eyes get suspiciously shiny.

“I know, love,” Louis tells him, and there’s so much adoration in his gaze that Harry feels weak with it. “but they’re not tears of sadness.”

“I –” Harry doesn’t know what to do with that information. He’s made Louis cry, but apparently it’s because he’s happy. Harry’s positive he can feel his heart overflowing with love for this boy.

Louis smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges with true joy that Harry hasn’t seen on his face in such a long time. Harry doesn’t know how long it will last, how long it will be before the world comes knocking on the little bubble they’ve built for themselves in these quiet moments, but he’s determined to make it last as long as he can. So, he leans in and claims Louis’ lips again and again, and Louis opens up to him, more than happy to be claimed.

 

 

 


	11. Stick Around, Why Don't You

Morning is… weird.

Louis wakes up alone and when he heads downstairs to breakfast, Harry shoots him one quick smile without really looking at him and continues flitting around kitchen. Sure, Harry’s trying to cook for an entire household full of people but it feels like he’s avoiding Louis and that makes something unpleasant and altogether too familiar squirm in Louis’ gut. He doesn’t get in Harry’s way, instead sitting at the counter watching Harry work, searching for some sign that he’s gotten it all wrong.

Harry keeps working, keeps himself busy chopping and cooking and plating everything. Every now and then, he throws a comment Louis’ way, trying not to ignore him completely but not letting the conversation go anywhere too deep either. Louis doesn’t seem to be trying to head into what Harry considers dangerous territory, just sitting there innocuously and watching Harry work and Harry isn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried about that. They sparked something last night, something that lit Harry’s heart on fire after years of it simmering down to just a dull ember. He thinks he could have moved on from his feelings for Louis one day –always wanting but maybe not needing him so much anymore– but one night was all it took to turn that possibility into nothing more than a far more distant dream than he’d imagined. He’s in this now, heart burning with renewed passion. He can’t afford for last night to have been a mistake so he’s refusing to give Louis the opportunity to tell him that it was.

It’s not long before the smells coming from the kitchen draw the rest of the Tomlinson-Deakin clan to the table to devour Harry’s offerings. Harry sits at the table next to Louis because that’s the seat that’s been left to him –though he doubts he would have been able to make himself sit anywhere else despite the circumstances anyway– keeping his mouth full so that he doesn’t have to speak. As soon as he’s done eating, he excuses himself and starts in on the dishes.

Louis can’t take it anymore, this stonewalling thing Harry’s doing, and follows him back into the kitchen, dirty plate in hand. He offers it to Harry, noticing the boy tense up when he sees it’s Louis next to him.

“Thanks,” Harry mutters, taking the plate and cursing himself for putting himself in the exact position he’d been afraid of.

Louis leans back on the counter, refusing to move until they get this settled. “Care to tell me what’s on your mind, Curly?”

Harry blinks his eyes shut forcefully. He’s so bad at hiding what he’s feeling, he doesn’t even know why he tries anymore. “I- no, nothing,” Harry lies.

“Doesn’t feel like nothing,” Louis replies, voice carrying a note of desperation. Oh, god. His chest feels tight with the realization that this must be what Harry felt like when Louis broke it off with him all those years ago. They hadn’t technically been together, never actually putting a name to it, but they’d been _something_ and Louis had run from it. He’d been cagey and withdrawn, holding Harry at a distance while he’d worked up the courage to put an end to the best thing he’d ever had, too afraid of what the world would say to listen to his heart screaming at him that he was being an idiot.

Harry isn’t Louis though. He drops the dishes he’s been cleaning mechanically and wipes his hands off before he’s pulling Louis into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, holding Louis tightly, like he’s the one afraid of being abandoned.

The thought makes so much sense that Louis wants to smack himself. Of course, Harry’s afraid of being abandoned, it’s all he knows Louis is capable of.

Louis gently pulls out of Harry’s embrace only to capture the boys’ face between his hands. He wants to make sure Harry knows he’s serious about this, that he’s not playing around this time. “This isn’t like last time, Harry. I’m so fucking sorry that I hurt you and I would go back there and kick me own arse if I could but I swear to you, I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. Not unless you want me to.”

“No.” Harry replies immediately, not wanting Louis to think for a second that he’s unwanted. Harry doesn’t think he’s capable of not wanting Louis. “I don’t want you going anywhere.”

“Good,” and just like that Louis’ mouth is on his, pressing kisses and apologies into it, proving that last night wasn’t a mistake for either of them and making Harry’s chest loosen for the first time all morning.

“ _Oh_.” Jay’s voice pulls the boys’ attention away from each other and towards the sound of her surprised gasp. She’s got a hand in front of her mouth but Louis suspects she’s hiding a smile behind it rather than being scandalized. “I didn’t realize that you two were–” she cuts herself off. “ _Well_. Harry, dear, why don’t you and Louis go… rest for a bit and I’ll do the washing up.”

“Uh, I–”

“That sounds perfect,” Louis interrupts before Harry can decline. “Thanks, mum.”

Louis stops at his mother’s side to kiss her cheek, not missing the wink she gives him as he passes, tugging Harry along behind him.

Harry doesn’t say another word until they’re back in Louis’ room with the door closed behind them.

“Does she think we’re up here…” he makes an awkward gesture with his hands that makes Louis laugh, bright and joyous.

“I think she only expects, at most, some heavy petting,” he jokes, pulling Harry over to sit on his bed with him and going serious once more as he stares into Harry’s adoring eyes. “But I’m done caring what anyone else thinks.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks, hope resting on the tips of his fingers as he drags them lightly over Louis’ arms.

“Yeah,” Louis repeats with a smile that gets Harry’s heart racing just as recklessly as it used to.

“Did you ever tell her about us?” Harry questions, hands stilling in their caresses, fingers wrapping around Louis’ arms, gripping loosely as he grounds himself.

“Didn’t have to,” Louis answers, grasping onto Harry, too. It’s a little scary how much he’s realizing they need each other, but Louis refuses to let fear run his life anymore. “That was part of the problem back then, Haz. Everyone could see what we were to each other. And I was just starting to accept that part of myself, I wasn’t ready for everyone else to know how I felt about you.”

“But now you are?” It’s an innocent question, not meant to pressure, just to give Harry an idea of where they stand. Will they be a secret again or does Louis plan on holding his hand in the streets? Honestly, Harry will take either, though he’d rather not hide.

“Now, I don’t care who else knows, just so long as you do.”

“I think I have an idea,” Harry smiles, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Louis’ waiting mouth. “It’s nice to know that your mother approves.”

“She loves you. I’m pretty sure she’s already planning the wedding.”

Harry knows that it’s meant to be a joke but the thought of marrying Louis has been floating around in his head since he was sixteen so it’s not entirely his fault if hearing it from Louis’ mouth makes him a bit weak.

“I call dibs on Niall as best man,” he jokes back and ignores the way his heart is hammering away in his chest.

 

 

 


	12. We Can Do This Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to hold off on posting this because I had to make a few additions.
> 
> Also, a very Happy Birthday to my good friend Kimmy! I hope it's a great day.
> 
> Warning for use of an offensive slur aimed at Louis.

Louis supposes it was too much to expect their little bubble of security to remain undisturbed. 

It starts with a call from Niall. Harry offers to take it, explain everything and keep Louis from having to think about the situation he left back in the states too deeply, but Louis refuses. He’s always been a bit bullheaded when it came to accepting help but he thinks Harry knows that, this time, it’s more than that. Louis is trying to be strong. How long is he supposed to keep holding on to something that was never his to begin with? Harry blanches when Louis says those words to him because isn’t that what he was doing with Louis? Holding on to something that didn’t belong to him? Louis is quick to assure him that it’s not even close to the same thing as he takes the phone from Harry’s hand, leaning in to bring their lips together briefly. Louis had belonged to Harry from day one, he’d just had a hard time admitting it.

The call with Niall is long and at the end of it, it’s obvious to everyone it’s taken an emotional toll on Louis. It’s not just talking about Freddie either, he misses Niall as well. And Liam. And, fuck it all, _Zayn_.  He’s kind of sick of the people he’s attached himself to just up and fucking off on him.

Louis curls himself up on his mother’s sofa and seconds later Harry is next to him, burrowing into his side and offering comfort that Louis is too stubborn to ask for.

The next pin to prick at their bubble comes in the form of ‘news’ in the telly around lunch time. There are pictures of Briana out in LA with Freddie filling up the television screen, looking frazzled and for all the world like she wishes she were anyone else. They’re talking about how Louis isn’t there to help her with the child anymore and wondering if she’s got it in her to be a single parent (especially now that she’s not getting money from Louis anymore) before someone has enough presence of mind to change the channel.

Louis retreats into himself even more after that. He doesn’t want or need more reason to think about Freddie and Briana and here he is _worrying_ about them. What if Briana can’t take care of Freddie by herself? Most people would assume that she’d have her family but he knows better than most that a large majority of them were only seemingly supportive of him and Briana for the attention they got from it. What if she gets sick of the less than flattering stories circulating about her now that there’s nothing benefitting her to outweigh the negativity and decides to leave LA? It’s one thing to lose Freddie and know exactly where he is, but it’s another to lose him entirely. Louis hadn’t thought of that until now. His chest kind of feels like it’s collapsing in on itself just now.

“Louis?” Harry’s voices filters through Louis’ thoughts and he turns to find Harry eyeing him warily. “Are you- ”

“Think I’m gonna go back to bed for a bit,” Louis cuts him off, pulling himself up from the sofa. “Not feeling well.”

Harry catches his wrist before he can even take a step.

“Want me to come with?” He asks quietly but his eyes are screaming at Louis, pleading with him to let Harry come and take care of him.

“Please,” Louis answers, pulling his wrist from Harry’s grip only to grab his hand and help pull him up as well. Being taken care of sounds really good right now.

Louis’ family watches silently as the two of them head back to Louis’ room and Louis hates the weight of their pitying gazes on his back. He also knows he’s not the only one who was hurt by what he saw so the least he can do is not breakdown in front of them, if that’s what’s coming. Louis isn’t sure what’s churning in his stomach, whether there’s a dam about to break or a storm brewing. Maybe both, anger and sadness warring under his skin.

“Come ‘ere,” Harry pulls him close once they’re tucked away securely in Louis’ room.

Louis goes easily and it’s nice just letting himself rest in the safety of Harry’s arms, Harry’s fingers running gently through his hair.

“I’ve got you,” Harry promises and Louis knows it’s true. Harry’s always had his back, even when he was being an unbearable twat.

That feeling twisting at his core is noticeably calmer under Harry’s touch and Louis doesn’t really understand how it could take him so long to realize that he _needs_ this boy like he needs to breathe.

Together, they move to Louis’ bed and lie down. Louis doesn’t really intend to sleep but Harry’s hands are moving up and down his back and massaging over his scalp and he really can’t be blamed for drifting a bit after a while. He’s about to drop off entirely when he feels Harry’s lips press against his temple and then one of Harry’s hands is gone, making it a little easier to stay awake.

Louis pries his eyes open and blinks up at Harry only to find Harry’s eyes on his phone. It’s tilted enough that Louis can see it if he shifts a little. He closes his eyes when he moves, pretending to be shifting in his sleep so that Harry doesn’t turn the screen away when he catches Louis peeking. He waits a few seconds with his eyes closed, knowing that Harry will at least glance down to check on him before returning his attention to whatever he’s doing.

Harry sighs against Louis’ forehead, the puff of breath moving a few strands of hair with the force of it. “Oh, Zayn,” he says softly, voice teetering somewhere on the precipice of disapproval and pride.

The name on Harry’s lips has Louis’ eyes flying open, gaze fixating on Harry’s screen.

Louis had always known somewhere in the back of his mind that not everyone had accepted his brief foray into fatherhood, disbelieving a piece of the story or even the whole thing entirely. He knew they’d given it a name but he’d tried not to think of it. He thought his bandmates had done the same, so he’s a bit surprised that it seems Harry is scrolling through the _Babygate_ tag. He doesn’t mean to but his eyes have scanned over a few of the tweets before he can stop them and he realizes that while the subject hadn’t been pleasant before, it’s turned into something truly ugly now.  He’s about to close his eyes, curl further into Harry, and convince himself that what he’s seen is just the remnants of a bad dream but then he sees Zayn’s name in a few tweets followed by a tweet from the man himself. Louis’ throat gets a little tight when he reads it. And then there’s another one, and another. Because it seems Zayn has singlehandedly taken it upon himself to fight everyone using that stupid tag on Louis’ behalf.

 

 

Louis sniffs and Harry’s eyes fall on him, immediately regretful that Louis might have seen any of the horrible things that people have been saying.

Louis wants to tell him that it’s fine, that it doesn’t hurt that much – and with Harry by his side, he’s certain it hurts less than it would alone – but then something else catches his eye. Niall’s name has joined Zayn’s in the tag.

If Louis thought he was teary-eyed before, he loses all control when Liam’s name pops up too, the precious little lima bean scolding people for hurting one of his best friends. Louis laughs tearfully into Harry’s neck, unable to believe just how loved he feels at the sight as Harry looks down at him fondly.

“Might as well get the band back together,” Harry murmurs, kissing Louis’ forehead again before he’s composing his own tweet.

Louis snorts at Harry’s tweet. Leave it to Louis to fall for someone so fucking cheesy. He pulls Harry’s phone away and tosses it onto the floor over his shoulder only to lean in and steal a kiss. Harry happily gives it to him, followed by several more.

Later on, when they go back downstairs, they find out that Louis’ made the news again. Lottie starts to turn it but Louis stops her when he hears that they’re talking about twitter and how Louis’ bandmates and Zayn had stood up for him.

 _“Bandmate Harry Styles who’s always either ignored the negativity on Twitter or focused on finding the politest possible way to confront the situation, has done it again. Quoting lyrics from their song ‘_ Home _’, his tweet had hashtag we love you Louis, trending for hours while the babygate tag went virtually silent. Such is the power of our own Harry Styles.”_

“Such is the power of looove,” Daisy corrects, causing all of her sisters to laugh when Harry’s cheeks go pink. Louis hadn’t realized that they all knew about him and Harry finally getting their shit together but he’s glad they do.

Even as his sisters laugh and tease, Louis approves of Daisy’s assessment but doesn’t really find it necessary. After all, Harry Styles and love are pretty much synonymous if you ask him. Nobody is asking him. Not yet. But when they do, he won’t have to lie this time.

 

 

 


	13. Right Back Home To You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last week got away from me. I'm so sorry.

Louis and Harry spend two weeks in Doncaster with Louis’ family. It still doesn’t seem like enough as the time passes in a blur of brushed away tears and watery smiles and hugs that leave him aching to stay.  And he could stay. But Harry has to get back to LA and Louis isn’t quite ready to be without him. In the hurricane that has become his life, Harry is his anchor amidst the stormy seas.

Harry hates that he has obligations to get back to. He’d much rather stay with Louis in the little nest they’ve built in the middle of Louis’ family home, but he’s made promises and he’d really like to not be the kind of person who breaks them.

“You should stay,” Harry tries to convince Louis while he packs his bag but Louis just keeps packing his own right beside him. It used to be Harry’s job to always pack Louis’ bag, stretching all the way back to their days on x-factor. Despite Harry being the younger of the two he was always the more responsible of them. If he didn’t pack Louis’ bag, Louis was likely to forget something. And then when whatever they were had fallen apart, it became Zayn’s job. And after him, Liam. Harry knows it’s stupid but he can admit that he got jealous a time or two. It didn’t matter that it was just a suitcase, that was _his_ job. It was an unpleasant reminder that they were broken somehow. Now, watching Louis shove his clothes into the bag without a care for wrinkles or the amount of space in the bag compared to the number of items he’s shoving inside, Harry bites down a grin. It’s become his job again, it seems.

“Louis, stop,” Harry says, catching Louis’ wrist before he can try to shove one more shirt into the already overstuffed case.

“I’m going with you, Harry,” Louis argues before Harry even has the chance to make his case. “I’ve only just got you back, I’m not letting you slip away again.”

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is far softer than even he was expecting as he pulls Louis into his arms. “Even if we aren’t in the same place, I’m not going anywhere, Lou.”

“Prove it,” Louis challenges, looking up at Harry with defiance written in his eyes. “Let me go with you.”

“You’re a big boy, Louis. You can do what you want,” Harry smiles down at him. “But I’m not letting you go anywhere until we repack this thing,” he says, letting go of Louis to reach for his bag and upend the entire thing.

Louis scoffs and rolls his eyes when he realizes that Harry wasn’t trying to talk him out of leaving again. He was worried over nothing, he realizes as Harry lovingly folds his clothes and places them neatly in the bag. Old wounds gnaw at his chest when he remembers all the times Harry used to do this for him, and then all the times he didn’t. He crowds against Harry’s back, resting his head between Harry’s shoulder blades and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Harry stops what he’s doing and smiles down at Louis’ hands on his waist, tracing his fingers over Louis’ hands before letting them rest there for a minute before he gets back to work. They have a flight to catch.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harry asks before they board the plane. “I’ll be out of the house a lot. You might end up being alone more often than not.”

“I’d rather be close by with the possibility of seeing you than at home, knowing I can’t,” Louis promises.

Harry wants to kiss him so badly right there in the airport but he doesn’t know if Louis is ready for that.

“Okay, then let’s go,” he agrees and turns away, starting to walk forward to board.

Louis’ fingers trail down Harry’s wrist and tangle with his, stopping Harry where he stands. He looks down at their entwined hands and then up at Louis, who’s smiling at him uncertainly. Harry beams back at him, elation growing in his chest and squeezes Louis’ fingers.

It’s not a kiss, but it’s a start.

 

*

 

Harry wasn’t kidding when he said he would be gone a lot.

Louis meanders around Harry’s house in a jumper so big that it hangs off his shoulders, and a pair of Harry’s joggers that he has to roll up to keep from slipping under his feet when he walks. He’s been in touch with Zayn since the Twitter incident and they’re somewhat back on better footing but not enough that Louis feels he can turn to him out of boredom yet. And he doesn’t want to bother Liam and Niall while they’re making the most of their break. He’s lonely and he misses Harry terribly but Harry’s being kept busy with this secret charity project and auditioning for some World War II movie that Christopher Nolan is directing, and Louis would feel like an arse for complaining that Harry’s life is going so well right now just because Louis wants all of his attention.

He’s falling asleep on the sofa with the television on when Harry gets home late.

“Louis,” Harry shakes him gently.

“What? What is it?” Louis asks waking with a start.

Harry laughs quietly, running his fingers through Louis’ hair. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Oh,” Louis says, looking around and realizing where he is. “Yeah, okay.”

Harry helps him drag himself up from the sofa and they start towards Harry’s bedroom not even bothering with the tv when Louis hears Briana’s name and turns on instinct.

_‘Briana looking into giving her son up for adoption??’_ is emblazoned across the screen. Louis doesn’t hear anything that the journalist is saying as his knees give out from under him. Harry catches him, holding him tightly as Louis’ stares at the screen with unseeing eyes.

“Louis,” Harry’s voice reaches his ears but he can’t even see Harry right now. “Louis, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

How can Harry promise that? How can he say that things are going to be okay? Nothing is okay.

“It’s probably just a rumor, Louis. Baby, look at me,” Harry pleads.

Louis blinks and drags his eyes to Harry’s face.

“It’s going to be okay,” Harry promises again. “I’ll call her, alright? I’ll find out what’s going on.”

“Please,” Louis pleads, clinging to Harry as the other boy leads him to the bedroom and deposits him on the bed.

“I’m calling right now,” Harry states, kissing Louis’ forehead and leaving him to his own devices for the moment.

Louis sits, unmoving, and waits.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me.


	14. I Can Hear Your Heart

Louis can hear Harry’s voice where he’s murmuring on the phone but he can’t make out the words he’s saying even though they’re right there in the same room. Harry keeps throwing worried glances his way too but Louis is too numb at the moment to give him any kind of reassurance. It would be a lie anyway. Louis isn’t okay.

The world becomes a blur as Louis sits there unblinking, unthinking.  He sort of shuts down to the point where he’s not even sure what he’s waiting for anymore until Harry – beautiful, lovely Harry – is standing in front of him, phone missing from his hand.

“Louis? Baby, are you listening?” Harry asks, eyes wary as he studies Louis.

Louis blinks, coming back to himself. “What?”

Harry puts his hands on Louis’ shoulders. “Are you with me, babe?”

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, wrapping his hands around Harry’s wrists, letting Harry be his anchor. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Okay,” Harry takes a deep breath moving one hand to cup Louis’ cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “I want you to listen really closely to what I’m about to tell you, Lou. You need to let me finish before you make any decisions. I need you to stay calm, baby.”

This sounds bad. Louis can feel a heavy weight in his stomach. He feels sick already but he nods at Harry, a silent promise to do as he says. Harry accepts it, sitting down next to Louis on the bed and taking both of his hands, holding tight.

“She hasn’t made a decision yet,” Harry says, watching Louis carefully for a reaction. When Louis doesn’t move, just continues to blink at him, he continues on. “But Briana _has_ looked into giving Freddie up. She says between the fans, the paps, her family, and the stress of being a single parent she’s just not sure she can do it.”

Louis waits for more but Harry seems to be finished. “Are you done? Can I say something, now?”

“Yeah, Lou,” Harry nods, squeezing Louis’ hands briefly. “Go ahead.”

“She doesn’t have to do it alone. Everything could go back to the way it was before. I don’t care what a piece of paper says, I can still be Freddie’s father,” Louis speaks, words impassioned as he imagines a scenario in which he still gets to raise his son.

Harry doesn’t smile and agree that’s the best option like Louis was hoping, instead he worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, eyes still sad when they look at him. Louis’s chest feels tight because _why isn’t Harry agreeing with him_?

“Haz?”

When Harry speaks, his voice is soft, soothing, and he’s letting go of Louis’ hands to wrap him up in his arms instead. Louis knows it’s meant to be comforting, which is why it’s the only time Harry’s arms have ever felt like a prison. If he’s trying to comfort Louis, that means there’s a reason he needs comfort and you don’t need comfort when things are going your way. “Louis, sweetheart, going back to the way things were only gets rid of a small part of the problem. She wouldn’t be a single parent anymore but, babe, it’s only gonna make all the other ones worse. She’s already said ‘no’ to that idea.”

“But, she can’t!” Louis panics, trying to push himself out of Harry’s embrace, fighting with everything he has because he needs to _go_. He needs to get away from here and the news that once all is said and done, he may never see Freddie again. “She can’t just give away _my son_!”

Harry’s strong arms crush Louis into his front, not letting Louis break free. He takes every hit from Louis’ flailing, struggling limbs with patience and love. Louis’ sobs ring out across the room as he droops against Harry’s side, all the fight draining out of him as he cries into Harry’s neck. “She can’t,” he whimpers.

Harry cries silent tears for the boy he loves, stroking his fingers through Louis’ hair as he holds him close, letting him sink into his warmth. “We’ll figure something out, baby. I promise,” Harry tells him, sniffling as the tears roll down his cheeks.

Seeing Louis hurting and not knowing how to fix it is the absolute worst feeling in the world.

Louis sniffs and his posture goes rigid in the confines of Harry’s arms before he’s pulling back suddenly.  “She’s giving him up.”

“We don’t know that, yet,” Harry reminds him, trying to soothe his fears. “She hasn’t decided, remember?”

“No, _Harry_ ,” Louis reaches up to wipe the tears from Harry’s cheeks with gentle thumbs, a light in his eyes that wasn’t there only moments ago. “If she’s giving him up, maybe… do you think she’d give him to me?”

“Wha- you want to adopt him?” Harry asks dumbly, mind swirling with the possibilities. It makes sense. Louis wants Freddie and will love him better than anyone else in the universe, Harry’s sure of it. And the band is on a long hiatus, there’s plenty of time to take care of a baby. It makes _so much_ sense and Harry doesn’t know why he didn’t think to suggest it himself.

“He’s my son,” Louis states like his love for the boy is enough to stake his claim of paternity even though biology has denied him. Harry supposes in some cases, love actually _is_ all you need. He just hopes, for Louis’ sake, that this is one of those times.

“I think it’s worth a shot,” Harry smiles. “There’s no better place for Freddie to end up. Do you want me to call her back?”

He’s already rising to pull his phone from his pocket when Louis’ hand on his back draws his attention back to the other boy.

“This isn’t just going to affect me, Harry. I’ve helped raise my sisters enough that I know I can handle doing this by myself. But the truth is, I’d really rather not be alone in this,” Louis looks up at Harry, eyes imploring him to pledge his allegiance to this cause. Harry can’t believe Louis feels like he needs to ask for it. Doesn’t he know that Harry will always be on his side?

“Of course, I’ll be there for you, Lou. Me _and_ the boys. We all will, I’m sure of it,” Harry promises, going back to the task of getting out his phone so that he can start this train in motion if it’s at all possible.

“No,” Louis says, gripping Harry’s chin to make him look at him, trying to make him grasp the gravity of what he’s asking. “I’m not asking for support, love. I know I’ve always got that.” He looks straight into Harry’s eyes, determined to make sure that he understands this time. “I wasn’t looking for reassurance, I was kind of hoping for a partner.”

Harry blinks, the meaning of Louis’ words taking a moment to full sink in as he stands there dumbfounded. That’s… that’s a pretty heavy commitment. One that Harry’s heart is soaring at the thought of.

“What do you say, Harry?” Louis asks, shaky fingers reaching out to him. “Do you want to raise a baby with me?”

“Yes.” Harry answers immediately, taking Louis’ hand and pulling him in to cling to him like he’s afraid this is all a beautiful dream that will fade away if he doesn’t hold onto it tightly enough. “There’s nothing I want more.”

It’s true. Somehow, in the course of a few weeks, Harry’s gotten everything his heart desires. He’s got the boy he loves in his arms, the family he’s longed for waiting to be built, and the dream job he’ll one day return to lingering just over the horizon.

“I love you,” Louis whispers into his skin.

Harry looks down at him, eyes watery with tears once more. “I love you, too, Louis.”

Louis presses his lips to Harry’s collarbone, pulling back with soft smile. “Okay, now you can make the call. Go get us our son.”

 

 

 


	15. He Is The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the last chapter. I hope it was worth the wait.

Everything just kind of… falls into place.

Briana agrees to the adoption. Despite not having any real desire to be a parent, she does seem to genuinely care about what happens to her son. Of course, they pay her a pretty penny but neither truly believes that’s why she’s doing this.  Especially when she has trouble letting go of the boy when the time comes.

“I know you’ll take good care of him,” she tells Louis quietly as she finally hands the boy over to Harry so he can strap Freddie into his car seat, her face carefully blank though Louis can see the wet sheen to her eyes.

“I will, I promise,” Louis nods, pulling her into a hug that she wasn’t expecting once her arms are empty. “Thank you for this.”

“He’s going to the best place for him,” she says into Louis’ shoulder, giving in and relaxing in his hold. She doesn’t sound like she’s trying to convince herself, she says it with conviction and that has Louis squeezing her in silent thanks. “You’ll let me visit once in a while, yeah?”

“Of course,” Louis agrees, letting her go. “Just ring me whenever and we’ll work something out.”

“You’re a good guy, Louis. I’m sorry you got mixed up in all this,” Briana tells him, sounding sincerely contrite.

“I’m not,” he disagrees, eyes trailing over Harry playing with Freddie to keep the baby occupied, booping his nose and making his little baby giggle ring out. It had definitely been hard at times. There were moments – too many to count – where he felt like he couldn’t breathe, but in the end, he’s gotten everything he wanted, hasn’t he? He can honestly say that every moment has been worth it when all is said and done.

 

~*~

 

It takes three weeks of living with Freddie nonstop as his official adoptive father for Louis to realize that he knows nothing. Everything that he thought he knew from helping to raise his sisters has gone out the window. Because you can know children, learn how to care for them, know what it feels like to _love_  them with everything you have, but it’s unquestionably _different_ when the child is your own.

What Louis thought he knew from taking care of Freddie for a day or two here and there before is nothing compared to what he’s learning now. It’s tiring and often overwhelming… and he wouldn’t give up a single second. Even when he has to sit down for a moment to catch his breath before going back to take care of Freddie’s cries in the middle of the night. Even when Louis nearly cries himself upon hear Freddie’s hurt-cry for the first time (it’s higher pitched than the others and his face turns even redder with the force of it). Even when he feels like he can’t sit down for longer than five minutes before he’s got to get up and go get something else that Freddie needs or do some chore that he’s forgotten. Because every moment of frustration is followed by moments that he wouldn’t trade for anything. Freddie’s giggle when Louis pretends to nibble on his fingers, or the way he always falls asleep on Louis’ chest unbidden after he eats but makes everyone else rock him to sleep.

Louis had moved into Harry’s house just before the paperwork went through but Harry’s in France for a while, filming that movie he’d auditioned for. They skype before Freddie’s bedtime when they can, Harry looking at the two of them with wistful glances and Louis knows he’d rather be home with them. Louis would rather Harry be with them too but he’s not going to hold his boyfriend back from following each and every one of his dreams even if it means putting his own on hold for the time being.

It’s not technically on hold, he guesses, life keeps moving and Louis gets into a rhythm eventually, it would just be better with Harry by his side. But he knows his boyfriend is there in spirit.

He’s just picked up Freddie from his nap when the doorbell rings, chiming out a few bars of one of Harry’s hipster songs that always makes Louis smile in remembrance. It’s fine for now, making Louis think of him, but he’s going to make Harry change it when he gets home in a few weeks so it doesn’t start to drive him crazy.

“Coming!” Louis calls, cradling Freddie to his chest as he rushes to the door.

He pulls it open wide and there stands Harry, still in his movie costume, hair cut short, and looking for all the world like a soldier just returned home from war.

Louis’ eyes fill with tears. He’d honestly throw himself at Harry if he didn’t have his arms full of sleepy baby.  “What-?”

“I just finished my scenes today,” Harry explains through the growing smile on his face. “Didn’t even wait to change before getting on a plane. I just wanted to be home with you two.”

“Well, why didn’t you use your key?” Louis wonders, pulling Harry into the house one handed while Freddie twists his head around to look at his Papa. They haven’t talked about it yet but if Louis is going to be ‘daddy’, there’s really only one name left for Harry.

Harry chuckles, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I may have left all my things in my hotel room in France. All I really thought to grab were the things I needed to actually get here.”

“Oh my god,” Louis laments with a smile as he and Freddie find their place in Harry’s outstretched arms. “I love you, you wonderful idiot.”

“I love you, too,” Harry answers, pressing a kiss to Louis mouth before turning to kiss Freddie’s forehead as well,” both of you.”

Louis barely lets Harry have the time to change out of his movie get-up before he’s pulling the boy back to his side, clinging to him like he’s afraid they’re going to call him back to France at any moment. He doesn’t even want to let Harry up to get snacks when they decide to veg out on the sofa for the rest of the day, playing with Freddie and watching crap telly.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” Harry laughs at him and Louis huffs as Freddie bounces up and down from where he’s standing on Louis’ knees.

“Those are famous last words, Styles,” Louis warns, already a little sullen from the loss.

“Well, I guess we should be thankful this isn’t a horror movie then,” Harry says bending to kiss Louis’ head before he sets off to forage for them.

“It better not be,” Louis pouts out his lips at Harry even though he knows he can’t see them just now, “You have to come back and take care of us.”

“I always do,” Harry calls back.

And it’s true. Harry always finds his way back to Louis’ heart, always finds his way back to his arms, always, _always_ takes care of him. They have so much all because of Harry, his ability to believe in Louis and their love.  None of them would be here if Harry hadn’t, against all odds, kept holding on to that love through the three years when Louis had been a stubborn coward.

Louis blinks up at him when Harry comes walking back in, arms full of sustenance, and kisses him firmly when he sits back down, causing a surprised whine to escape Harry’s mouth before he’s dropping everything and returning the kiss with fervor. Like Louis is the only thing that matters.

And Louis hopes that Harry keeps holding on to him - _to them -_  for many years to come. 

Louis plans to return the favor.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for going on this journey with me, I hope it was worth it. :)
> 
> Also, if anyone cares, I'm going to make this into a series with little glimpses into their future, Freddie's milestones and their family woes and triumphs, so look out for that.


End file.
